Page 55 of Crystal Iris
“Is that a…?” I begin, realizing I don’t know the animal.
“It’s a bighorn sheep,” he answers.
“I thought sheep were fluffy and cute.”
He laughs. “Not all of them.”
I continue eyeing the place.
“The bathroom?” Akira asks.
“End of the hallway, to the right,” he answers. “I’ll take your bags upstairs,” Hoyt says, leaving me alone in the living room.
I walk toward a table lined with photographs. I recognize Hoyt in the pictures, along with who I guess is his dad and maybe his brother. I see the boys with bows and arrows by a large tree. Right next to them, I spot a picture of a couple of horses and a young woman wearing fringes. I wonder if it could be their mom—Hoyt never mentioned her. I don’t want to ask; I figure there’s a reason for the privacy.I don’t know anything about this man, and yet here I am, in his house, all the way in Montana.
“I put each bag in a room, both on this side,” he says, gesturing upstairs. “My room is on the other side.” He makes it clear.
I obviously wasn’t expecting to share a room with him, though I thought I would be with Akira.
“Thank you. I didn’t know we’d each get our own room.”
“Scared of sleeping alone?” he asks with a grin.
“Should I have reasons to be?” I fake being nervous about being in a stranger’s house.
“Shit. Sorry, I didn’t mean to?—”
“I’m kidding.”
He runs his hand through his hair, seeing that I’m laughing at him.
He walks over to where I’m standing and points at one photo. “That’s me, naked.”
I giggle as I see a little baby in what I assume are his dad’s arms.
“You need to check out the bathroom!” Akira says behind me.
“We have our own rooms,” I tell her on my way to do as instructed.
The bathroom definitely doesn’t disappoint. Between the ornamental marble sink and modern toilet, I’m pleased with our accommodation. This place is exquisite.
Akira excuses herself to take a nap, saying she’s tired from the travel, although I know she’s just giving us privacy.
I follow Hoyt to the large back porch that overlooks the river. The sun beats down strongly, and I close my eyes to feel it on my skin. The sweet scent overtakes my other senses.
“It smells like… cookies,” I say, taking another whiff.
He looks at me, pleased. “It’s the bark of the ponderosa pine. On warm days, it can smell like vanilla or butterscotch.”
“Which one is it?”
“The one over there,” he points. “With the deep grooves in the trunk, looking like a difficult yet fun puzzle.”
I take a seat on the steps by the water. He sits next to me, making sure we have enough space between us.
“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” I say, looking out at the sun reflected in the water.
“I’m glad you came.”
